


Pure

by reapertownusa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:05:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reapertownusa/pseuds/reapertownusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny is looking for a way out, but Dean isn't ready to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pure

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Suicidal ideation-ish themes.
> 
> Spoilers: Through early Season 8
> 
> Author's Note: Written for salt_burn_porn to downjune’s prompt 'Strong as hell but not hickory rooted'

Water splashed up around Dean as he darted through the trees. The further he headed into the swamp, the higher the water rose. His jeans were already soaked up to his thighs. The denim hung heavy with mud, slowing him down.

The darkness was tempered by the moon’s light shining down through the thick canopy of the trees. The cool rays reflected back unblinking eyes that dipped out of sight beneath the deeper waters as soon as they were discovered.

Dean drew back his dagger, turning at a sharp splash ten feet to his right. By the time he pinpointed the position, there was nothing but waves. Just another damn alligator.

The constant, predatory threat was familiar. It felt comforting in a way it shouldn’t.

He brushed aside a draping carpet of moss, stumbling as he tripped over the half submerged buttress of a cypress. He leaned against the gnarled roots long enough to find his footing.

A few hundred feet back, the water had become too shallow for the stolen bucket of rust he’d floated out here in. Now it rose again until he was wading through scummy water up to his waist. His boots sunk into the spongy silt with each step. He searched the shadows for higher ground, clambering over a tangle of fallen limbs in hopes of finding the shore.

Something reached out of the darkness and slashed his cheek. Dean raised his dagger and whipped around to face his attacker.

He found only the whip of a willow swaying in the still night. He reached out to run his fingers over the tip where the branch glistened with fresh blood. He swiped at the long, shallow cut stinging his cheek, glaring at the willow before pushing on to dry ground.

Water sloshed inside his boots as he climbed up the slick bank. They used to be his good boots. Dean was going to kill that damn vampire himself if Benny wasn’t already out here deader than usual.

At least he’d like to think it was that easy. Maybe he could even pretend it was if not for the dull ache of panic that had driven him out into the bayou.

He’d lied to Sam. Nothing big, he wasn’t doing that again, just a little white lie, which nearly passed for the truth between them. Dean was concerned about what Benny would do. If Sam had happened to misinterpret those words as concern for the safety of people other than Benny, that wasn’t on Dean.

Benny had stopped answering his phone. It shouldn’t mean much given that Dean had said he’d do the same and, for all he knew, Benny didn’t even know how to charge the damn thing. Yet, the radio silence had gone on far too long considering that his blood still ran cold from their last conversation.

At first, he’d been surprised when he’d hacked Benny’s phone and found him back in Louisiana. It wasn’t until he’d checked a map that he’d realized it was bumfuck nowhere, Louisiana.

There wasn’t much of anyone to eat out here, but that was the problem. There were no hospitals or livestock. There wasn’t anything to feed on unless Benny had decided to make a go of it on catfish and second-hand blood from mosquitoes.

“Benny?”

The only answer to his call was howling in the night. It didn’t matter what the sounds really belonged to. Dean saw the familiar shadows of monsters lurking in the darkness.

He knew Benny was near. He could feel it humming in his blood the same way they’d kept track of each other in Purgatory. Just a knowing without reason or maybe just reasons so innate there was no need to analyze them.

He jumped back as his boot hit something too soft to be a log. He crouched out of range, waiting for the slash of a weapon, the clamping of a jaw or a trap that had been triggered. Nothing moved.

Dean edged closer, remaining wary until he heard an all too familiar groan. He followed the sound to the tall weeds where he could just make out the silhouette of a body lying on the ground.

“Benny!”

Dean rushed forward and dropped down onto the wet earth. He wrapped his arms around Benny’s limp torso, pulling him up from the grass. At least the idiot’s head was still attached. The body was cold, but Dean was used to that. It wasn’t the temperature that concerned him.

Benny was listless. His eyes were half closed and the side of his face was caked with mud as if he were just some corpse waiting for the swamp to swallow it. When Dean tried to sit him up, Benny’s head lolled forward against his shoulder.

“You stupid son of a bitch.” Dean shook him. “What’d you do?”

Benny took in a deep draw of air, raising his head to sniff Dean’s drying blood. Dean didn’t pull away even as the rough beard scraped against his cheek. A cool tongue darted out to run along the cut, renewing the flow of blood. Dean remained still at the soft hiss of fangs drawing down inches from his ear.

Benny jerked in his arms, weakly shoving him back. When Dean let go, Benny scooted to prop himself up against the roots of the nearest tree and sagged back against it.

Dean knew how close he was to being supper. This was Benny, but Dean had felt this kind of hunger. It was beyond control or the influence of loyalty. He knew he might as well be waving a big, juicy steak in front of a starving tiger. He just wasn’t sure he cared.

“You get on out of here.” Benny’s eyes were closed, tension synching his features. His fangs gritted in a snarl as he turned away. His hoarse whisper was nearly lost beneath the chorus of frogs. “You’ve done enough, brother.”

Dean got to his feet and walked to stand over the monster Sam wanted dead. It looked like there was finally something Benny and Sam agreed on.

Benny was smeared with mud and his tattered wool coat had bits of vegetation clinging to it. While he still had his bulk, he looked strangely frail given what Dean knew he was capable of. If not for the tree’s support, he’d probably be back lying on the ground waiting for a one way ticket back to the place they could hunt without remorse.

Dean crouched down between Benny’s legs so they were face to face and close enough Benny couldn’t avoid him. The hollow steel blue eyes locked with his. They didn’t need words. Dean understood it all.

He knew what it was to be alone without a place in this world. Without Sam, he’d be right where Benny was. Hell, right now he still didn’t feel far off. He knew that yeaning for the simplicity. Neither of them had come back to what they’d thought they’d left behind. The world had moved on without them.

Dean nodded and Benny did the same. Benny had retracted his fangs, but trembled with the struggle.

“So you get why I gotta do this,” Benny said.

Dean patted his shoulder. “Yeah, man, I get it.”

“What’re you doing there?” Benny asked as Dean rolled up his sleeve.

“Fixing this.”

Dean lifted the dagger and drew the blade over his forearm, all but tracing the scar that had been left from bringing Benny back into this world. He gouged deep enough for the blood to flow freely.

“No.”

“Sorry, Benny.”

Dean pulled Benny tight against him. His fangs sprung out, but Benny pushed away even as his mouth instinctually opened to receive the hot blood that curled down Dean’s arm.

“I don’t want anyone else to die for nothing.” Benny ground out the words through clenched fangs. “I won’t kill you.”

“Damn right you won’t.”

This world sucked ass, but Dean wasn’t going to lie down and die. Not now, not ever, and after a year of combat at Benny’s side, he knew that wasn’t what Benny wanted either.

He also knew first hand there was a hell of a difference between getting vamped and being one. Benny wasn’t a monster. He was just some guy who’d been turned into something he’d never wanted to be.

His free hand held Benny’s head while he pressed his bloody forearm to Benny’s mouth. Weak hands pushed at his chest, trying to force him away, but the struggling stilled as soon as the blood coated Benny’s throat.

Rough suckling became gouging. Dean’s jaw clenched as fangs locked into his arm. His pulse pounded in his ears, no doubt sounding like thunder to the vampire who had risen to his knees while still pressing tight against him.

A growl rumbled in Benny’s throat, vibrating through Dean’s chest. Benny pushed forward, knocking him back.

Dean grunted as he hit the ground with Benny coming down on top of him. The fangs were still buried in his arm. The weight pressed Dean’s body down into the cool mud.

His focus faded as the energy drained from his body. The tension was going with it and the tug of oblivion felt far better than it should, but he wasn’t dying here. Neither of them were.

“Okay, Benny, that’s enough.”

Dean tried to shove him off, but the fangs only dug deeper. A wave of dizziness washed over him when he tried to twist away. There was no real panic, only practicality as Dean curled his fist and threw it into Benny’s temple. It was enough to free his arm.

Dean flipped them so he was on top then scrambled off. He backed only far enough to be out of Benny’s immediate reach, stumbling as he clutched his throbbing arm to his chest.

Benny was back standing in front of him before Dean could turn his head to follow the movement of the vampire rising to his feet. A hard push knocked Dean back against a tree, trapping him between the raised roots.

Benny’s fangs were still drawn and dark with Dean’s blood. His eyes were lost in a haze of hunger until they rose to catch Dean’s then filled with horror. Benny spun around, stumbling away. He stopped hunched over and facing the water.

Dean’s chest heaved as he leaned back against the tree trunk, watching the tension in Benny’s shoulders. As it was in Purgatory, the creatures around them filled the silence between them.

By the time Benny turned back, his fangs were retracted and his brow creased. He wiped the blood from his mouth and stared down at the stain on his hand.

“Why?” Benny asked.

Dean shrugged as he slipped out of his flannel. “’Cause I didn’t wanna carry your ass out of here.”

“I mean...”

“I know what you meant.” Dean bit one of the sleeves of the dirty flannel while tugging on the other with his free hand. He tied it around the wound without bothering to look over the damage. It wasn’t anything Benny needed to see. “You really gotta ask?”

“I just don’t get you, Dean.”

“Nothing much to get.”

Dean slid down to sit on the ground, gritting his teeth as he pressed against the wound. Benny walked back over to him, crouching a few feet away.

“You save people, but you want a monster like me to keep on going. For what? Nostalgia? Was I really that good?”

Dean chuckled dryly. “You're not a monster, Benny. If you were you wouldn’t be out here. You can fight this.”

“Sweet notion, friend, but you know we're both deluding ourselves on that one.” Benny settled down, sitting across from Dean before glancing into the night beyond him. “I'm just not strong enough.”

“Join the club, pal.”

Dean’s heart was still pounding as they sat together. It was something they’d gotten used to in Purgatory. Just being without having to be anything other than what they were in that moment.

Dean looked up at the stars peeking through the canopy of the trees. They were the one thing that didn’t fit. There were no stars in Purgatory. Glowing eyes were the only thing that had ever shined from the blackness.

Another splash downstream and Dean jerked his head to the side. Even hazy from blood loss, he remained hyper vigilant. He was wired and ready for the next attack, but not worried enough to stand.

Dean lifted his hand from the muck they were settling into. “So this is where you came to die?”

“Nah, this is where you came to die. I’m already dead. Twice over. Should’ve known better than to think there was anything left here for me.”

“Seriously? Benny, I risked my ass getting you topside. And what? Now you wanna just throw yourself back down the rabbit hole?”

“Just who got who out, now?” Benny asked with a shadow of a smirk. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be wandering through Purgatory looking for your pet angel.”

“Yeah, sure. Instead I’m wandering through the swamp looking for my pet vampire. So much more awesome.” Dean wiped his hand over his wet jeans before scrubbing it over his face. “And just for the record, the guy who hitched a ride in my arm doesn’t get credit for getting me out of anywhere.”

Benny raised his brow before letting his focus rest on Dean’s forearm. “That brother of yours, he know you’re down here feeding yourself to monsters?”

“Not a monster and Sam’s just got some crap to work through. We’ll be okay. Always are.”

In that way that was never really okay, but was as good as it got and good enough. Dean still couldn’t pretend that he was in a hurry to head back.

It wasn’t Sam. He couldn’t blame his brother for wanting out. It was just that what Benny felt, Dean felt it, too. It was hard not to want to be somewhere where there was no explaining or justifying—just doing.

“Right...” Benny’s tone was skeptical enough to say he knew, but he let it go. “You could’ve got me a gator.”

“What?”

“Why’d you go feeding yourself to me when you could’ve caught me a gator?”

“Do I look like your personal chef? Besides, I taste way better than some damn lizard.”

“You’re right there, friend, but I could’ve killed you.” Benny’s eyes drifted close as he took in a deep whiff of the air. “Just might yet.”

Dean wasn’t stupid. Benny may still be weak, but Dean was the one running on empty now. If Benny went off the deep end, there wasn’t anything Dean could do aside from put up a good fight. That was all he could ever do.

“I’d like to see you try,” Dean said.

Dean tilted his head and glanced at Benny. His blood was still smeared over the man’s face, but he was a man. At least as much as Dean was, maybe more.

Despite what Sam thought, he hadn’t been butting heads with his brother for some random monster. Benny had more than earned every scrap of loyalty Dean had given him.

That much was clear from the softness in Benny’s eyes, let alone his actions. There was as much need in those eyes as Dean felt in himself. There was the need for things to be simple again, to be able to take what they needed without judgment.

“What you said, ’bout not regretting what we did back there...”

Dean wasn’t sure which of them had closed the distance, but Dean put his hands on Benny’s chest pushing him back onto the ground as he straddled him. There was no question that he wasn’t the only one who needed this as he grinded against stiffening bulge beneath Benny’s slacks.

Dean rested his hands on either side of Benny’s face. Benny’s nostrils flared, his gaze drifting to Dean’s sloppily wrapped forearm.

“You good?” Dean asked.

“You really fool enough to trust me?”

Dean stared down at Benny as he pulled the knife from his back pocket. He leaned over and stabbed it into the ground off to the side. His fingers had barely slipped from the hilt before Benny was working Dean’s belt free from its buckle.

As Benny unzipped his jeans, Dean leaned back to pull free the laces of his water-filled boots and pulled them off, tossing them to the side. He and Benny had been here enough times before to know that it was better to get caught without pants then with them tangled around their ankles.

Benny helped him to push off the confining weight of the heavy denim before Dean settled back down with his knees on either side of Benny’s waist. Cool hands roamed up his thighs to cup his ass.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath when one of those hands moved forward to trace the length of his swelling cock. His head was still foggy and Benny’s movements seemed too quick to follow. He didn’t bother trying as those calloused fingers worked him with all the nimbleness of a sailor’s practiced hands.

Benny knew him inside and out. He knew his body and what he was and Sam could never know. Even Dean couldn’t consider what it said about him as he pressed back against the cold, slick fingers pushing up inside him, urging them deeper.

Dean shivered at the thought of what Dad would’ve done to him and Benny both. He only momentarily heard his father and brother screaming in his head before he settled back into the moment, settled down onto Benny’s cock.

Here, it didn’t matter what either of them were or what this meant. It didn’t mean a damn thing. It just was. They just were. And when they collapsed down together in a tangle of muddy limbs neither of them bothered to sort out, that was all that mattered.

Dean could feel his warmth seeping into Benny’s body as he lay on top of him. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the pounding of his own heart. He knew it was all that Benny heard too, but when Dean looked up from where he rested his head on Benny’s shoulder, the fangs were still hidden.

“Not a monster,” Dean said.

He rolled onto his back, too exhausted to bother with finding his pants or sitting up. Instead, he nestled in beside Benny, only lifting himself enough to let Benny’s arm slip around him.

“Maybe, maybe not. But you’re still a damn fool.”

“Yeah, well, some things never change.”

The last bit of tension slipped from Dean’s body as his heart slowed and the chill of night settled into his skin. His head rested on Benny’s arm and the howling darkness blanketed them. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it.

The stars above were the only sign that everything had changed. Maybe come sunrise, they’d have to admit that, but tonight they were here and the world could wait.


End file.
